


My Substitute for Love

by aithne



Series: New Kirkwall (Modern AU) [12]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aithne/pseuds/aithne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The very last thing that Erlina should have done was fall for her employer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Substitute for Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a followup to a story written by Sketchyfletch which she hasn't posted to AO3. Anora and Erlina are our doomed romance.

_one: betrayals_

Sometimes, the old ways were still the best.

Erlina would often run errands for Queen Anora in her capacity as her personal assistant.  Pick up dresses and accessories after they were tailored or cleaned, retrieve paperwork from lawyers, meet with speculators who wanted a piece of the money they thought the Crown had.

It was always the work of a moment to slip a plain brown envelope into a postbox.  Ferelden was justly proud of its postal service.  It was one of the few government services that still  _worked_.  And for the price of an international stamp, papers could flow freely over the borders without being searched.

Even if the mail was not as secure as Erlina thought it was, she had faith in her ciphers. 

She slipped the envelope into the mailbox, winced as the door of it banged shut.  _There._   One more checkin.  One more month borrowed against the time she had left.

 #

_two: falsehoods_

It was easy for her to go unnoticed in the palace.

She dressed in professional greys, her hair bound up, glasses she did not need perched on her nose.  Her vision was perfect, but she feigned nearsightedness. Between her dress and her elven ears, she was a mouse in the wide halls, invisible among the dust.  And she would sit so still, still as one of the statues, and she would listen.  As a personal assistant did.

As far as she could tell, Anora never wondered where an elf had come by accounting skills and a deep knowledge of business, as well as the ability to discern the quality of clothing at a glance and make another woman look perfect for whatever she needed to face that day. 

As far as she knew, Anora never wondered anything about Erlina at all.

It was safer that way.  The cover she had been provided was deep and truthful for at least three layers down, but it was built on a spiderweb of falsehood.

She had begun in a professional capacity, but in order to gain access to what she needed, she had needed to go deeper.  To get  _personal_.

And that was where things had started to go so very, very wrong.

Her cell phone rang as she made notes on her copy of the charter for a girls’ home that was Anora’s current pet project.  She glanced at the number and answered immediately.  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Erlina.” Anora’s voice had just the slightest hint of a purr in it. Just enough to tighten Erlina’s nipples and send a jolt of electricity down her spine. “His Majesty has just left for Gwaren.  Would you be so kind as to bring me those contracts we were discussing by our rooms tonight?  I’d like to see if I can review them this evening.”

_Be ice, Erlina.  Be water._

_Be stone._

“Of course,” she said.  “I will be there with them in a half hour.”

“Sooner, if you can.”  She could tell by the sound of Anora’s voice that she was wearing that wicked little smile she sometimes got.  “Thank you so much.”

“It is no trouble, Your Majesty.”  She closed the phone and tried to ignore the heat between her thighs.   _I want to have you on a bed for once,_  Anora had said in the office the other day, her lips teasing the tip of Erlina’s breast.  _Next time Cailan leaves, come to our room._

She had seduced the Queen, as she’d seduced so many others in her time.  All along, she had ignored the warning signs, the little smiles they would share, the way Erlina’s belly would flutter when she saw Anora’s fingertip tracing along a line of text in a contract.  The way her scent would intoxicate her as they would work, their heads close together.

The way Anora would relax under her hands as she massaged her scalp, her eyes closing in perfect trust.

_It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

She had fallen in love with the Queen, who did not return her affection.  Erlina was a convenience, an ally, a trusted companion.  Nothing more.

She had set everything Erlina was on its ear.  But if Anora discovered Erlina was an Orlesian spy, she would have her killed.  If Erlina defected, her own government would have her killed.  If she tried to run, they would track her down.

Her only salvation lay in returning to the arms of her government and confessing that she had become compromised by emotion.  She would be sent for retraining and never again given an assignment outside the country.

But she did not go. 

Tears welled in her eyes, unexpectedly.  She covered them with a sneeze.  She was allergic to dust.  It made her eyes water.

Then she composed herself and rose, retreating to the Queen’s private office to retrieve the requested contracts.

 #

_three: truths_

“What did I ever do without you?” Anora murmured.

Erlina ignored the stab of pain in her gut.   _She doesn’t mean it like that._   But they were lying on the couch in the office, naked and intertwined, Anora’s lips at her ear.  And with her, like this, Anora was no longer the Queen, just a woman.

_A woman who does not love you._

Erlina pressed herself closer to Anora, her eyes lidding.  “Your papers were a mess,” she whispered, and meant  _I do not know what I did without you either._

She dipped her head, pressed her lips to the Queen’s skin.  And for a moment, she pretended that this was real.


End file.
